


Post-Apocalyptic Parenting

by Ellie226



Series: You, Me, and Baby Make Three [10]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Play, Character Death, Daddy Kink, Infantilism, Multi, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226





	Post-Apocalyptic Parenting

The first time Kurt heard reports of a bizarre illness, he was sitting on the naughty stool. He had been relegated to time out to think about how he was supposed to behave for Papa while Daddy was at work.

Which was not fair at all. Papa was in charge while Daddy was at work, and it was not fair for Blaine to come home and punish him when Dave hadn’t found it necessary to send him to time out or spank him.

Even if Kurt had been yelling at Papa when Daddy got home so maybe Papa didn’t have a chance to punish him yet. Not fair.

And now Daddy was sitting on the couch, watching the news. Which was also not fair because Kurt wanted to watch the news but he couldn’t because it wasn’t for little boys. And making him listen to it when he couldn’t watch it was NOT FAIR.

Especially because there was some weird report that Daddy was actually paying quite a bit of attention to. Kurt could tell because Daddy wasn’t moving around or calling to Papa like normal. 

By the time Kurt was let out of time out, the spot about all the people getting sick was over. Kurt cuddled up next to Daddy while they talked about why he had been in trouble. When that was done, Kurt slipped his fingers into his mouth, only to have Daddy tug his hand away.

“I don’t want you sucking on your fingers, baby,” he said.

Kurt whined, “Dadddddddyyyyyyyy. Fingers are okay now. You and Papa said. Not fair to change the rules.”

Blaine kept hold of Kurt’s hand, “I know. I’m telling you that you can’t for right now. I don’t want you getting sick like the people on the news.”

“Won’t get sick,” Kurt pouted. “Just wash my hands.”

“No,” Blaine didn’t bother to keep arguing. 

Kurt hated it when Daddy did that. Standing up, he went to the kitchen, calling for Dave as he walked. “Papaaaaaaaaa.”

Dave was standing at the stove, making stir fry. “Kuuuuuurrrrrrrrrtt. Don’t yell in the apartment.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” Kurt said, tucking himself up against Dave. “Daddy said no more fingers. Tell him that’s not fair.”

Blaine had followed into the kitchen behind Kurt; he had known where this was going as soon as Kurt said Papa. “I didn’t say no more fingers. I said no fingers right now. There’s some monster flu virus going around; people are getting really sick, Dave.” Grabbing Kurt’s arm so that he could force him to look at Daddy, he continued, “And I don’t appreciate you running to Papa to tattle, hoping he’d make me change my mind, Kurt Elizabeth.”

Kurt tugged away from Daddy, slithering around to Papa’s other side. “Is not fair, Papa,” he complained.

Dave slipped the wok off the burner with a sigh. He just wanted to finish making dinner; it had been a long day of whiny, argumentative Kurt. Picking the baby up, he settled him on the counter. Hands on either side of Kurt’s hip, he made eye contact, “Daddy said no. You can use your binky for a few weeks; it’s not going to kill you. And Daddy’s right; you don’t come to me because you’re hoping for a different answer.”

Kurt pouted at that, glaring at Dave’s back as he turned back to the stove. 

“Cheer up buttercup,” Daddy told him, chucking him under the chin. “Why don’t you wash your hands, and then you can set the table for dinner.”

“Not buttercup,” Kurt scowled, hopping down from the counter and going to the sink. “An’ I don’t want yucky stir fry.”

“Well, you happen to be in luck,” Papa replied, turning the stove off. “Because I do not make yucky stir fry. I make absolutely delicious stir fry.”

Kurt grabbed plates from the cupboard, dodging Papa as he reached to tickle him. “Don’t,” he said, grouchy.

“Cranky little boys go to bed early, Kurt. Do you want to try to lose that attitude?” Dave warned.

Kurt inhaled deeply, putting the plates down on the table. He didn’t want early bedtime. Once he felt a little bit more in control, he began laying place settings for the three of them. Returning to the kitchen, he got glasses for Daddy and Papa. 

“I can do those, baby,” Blaine told him, holding his hand out. “What would you like to drink?”

Kurt leaned into Daddy, “Please lemonade?” he asked.

Daddy leaned forward, “Kiss,” he insisted. When Kurt complied, he said, “Have you had lemonade already today?”

“Nuh uh. Please Daddy?”

“He’s fine, Blaine,” Dave said, carrying the stir fry and the rice to the table. Blaine poured the requested beverage into Kurt’s sippy cup and handed it to him. 

“You too?” He asked Dave.

“Please,” Papa was busy spooning food onto Kurt’s plate. Sitting, he served himself. Dave was unsurprised to find himself with a lapful of baby. “You need help tonight?” he asked as Kurt snuggled against him.

Kurt nodded, opening his mouth obediently for the first spoonful of vegetables and brown rice. Dave was happy to see that recently chastised Kurt was going to be quiet and clingy as opposed to loud and defiant. 

Daddy and Papa talked around Kurt for most of the meal, and Kurt focused on eating the stir fry. Which, admittedly, was pretty yummy. By the time dinner was over, Kurt was feeling less crabby. His mood only improved with dessert, and other than a few reminders about not sucking his fingers, Kurt didn’t think much more about people getting sick.

Their weekend went pretty well. It was too short, but they had fun. On Monday, when Daddy went back to work, Kurt decided to take the day off. 

He wrote most days, so he figured that skipping a day now and then didn’t really hurt anybody. And he felt little, so he decided to play with his blocks instead.

Papa was cleaning the apartment, stepping around Kurt, as he built San Francisco. After the first half hour, he stopped to tug Kurt’s fingers from his mouth, “No no.”

Kurt jerked away with an irritated look, “I like my fingers. Daddy said not for a while. It’s been a while.”

Papa squatted down next to Kurt, “No,” he said calmly. “No fingers. Do you understand?”

“Why do you always ask if I understand?” Kurt asked, angry. “I understand. I’m not stupid.”

Papa raised an eyebrow. Sitting down, he pulled Kurt into his lap. Holding him so that he could speak in his ear, he said, “I know you’re not stupid. That’s why I know that you’re going to make a good choice about how to respond to me right now.”

Kurt had been tense, but he forced himself to relax against Papa. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I want to suck on my fingers.”

“I understand. You are welcome to use your binky if you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You can use your pacifier or nothing. Those are your choices.”

Kurt didn’t respond to that, just sinking further against Dave, frustrated. After several minutes of waiting, Dave shifted Kurt off of his lap and stood. Pulling the baby up on his hip, Dave carried him to the rocking chair, snagging the blanket and Beau from the couch where they had been abandoned earlier. Tugging a pacifier from his pocket, he tried to hand it to Kurt.

“I didn’t say I wanted that,” Kurt protested.

“We’re going to cuddle here for a little bit,” Dave said. Kurt wanted to argue, but Papa just rocked, acting like everything was fine. He let Papa slip the pacifier into his mouth, and just rested against him, thinking.

They stayed like that for a while, until Kurt got restless. “I wanna build more, Papa.”

“Alright baby. I want you to keep your binky though.”

“I don’t want it.”

Dave nodded, helping Kurt stand up. “You don’t need to use it, but I want you to keep it near you to remind you. Or we can put band aids on your fingers.”

“Binky,” Kurt said. He didn’t like either option, but he’d keep the pacifier. Papa let him go back to his blocks, cleaning the apartment before he settled into a chair so he could read while he kept an eye on Kurt.

Blaine showed up, bursting through the door, at 1:57 PM. That stuck in Kurt’s head afterward. Daddy never came home that early. Not unless something was wrong. At the time though, he was just happy and surprised.

He held out his arms to be picked up, but Blaine walked past him. Grabbing the remote control, he turned on the television and switched to CNN.

Kurt stood up, padding over to the couch. “Daddy, come look at my blocks. I builded San Francisco. I want to go there.”

“Not now,” Blaine was staring at the television.

Kurt sighed, “I know not now Daddy. When we go on vacation. I’ve never been to San Francisco.”

“Baby,” Daddy sighed, pulling Kurt down to sit next to him. “Shhhh.”

“But Daddy-” 

Papa cut Kurt off, sitting next to both of them and popping the abandoned binky in his mouth. “Hush,” he said.

Kurt pouted, sitting between the two of them, as they watched the screen avidly. After a minute, Kurt realized that what was happening on the television was maybe more important than being angry about the basic unfairness of his life.

The CDC was calling for a quarantine of the affected area. Apparently, the monster flu people had gotten was making them violent. 

When Daddy realized that Kurt was watching, he clicked the television off. “They’re saying people need to stay indoors. Do we have food, or should I go and buy groceries?”

“We’re good,” Dave looked shell shocked, unsure of what was going on, “but we’re not in one of the quarantine areas.”

“Not yet,” Daddy told him. Looking down at Kurt, he smiled, “Baby, can you go and clean up your blocks please?”

Kurt shook his head, clutching Dave’s arm tightly. He didn’t want to clean up.

Papa set him on his feet and swatted him toward his toys, “Tear down San Francisco for me, pumpkin. Daddy and I are going to get something to drink.”

“Lemonade,” Kurt said, sitting down by his blocks and beginning to take down the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Pardon?” Blaine asked.

Kurt sat back on his heels, “Please may I have lemonade Daddy?”

“Of course you can,” they walked into the kitchen, leaving Kurt on his own. As he carefully stacked his blocks against the wall, he strained to listen.

“They aren’t,” Papa’s voice faded to an incoherent mumble.

Daddy said something, then, “We should be prepared.”

Kurt hurried to clean up so he could go into the kitchen. Unfortunately for him, by the time he had everything organized the way that Papa kept it, Daddy and Papa were coming back out to him. 

“What’s going on?” Kurt asked, standing up.

“Nothing baby,” Blaine smiled at him. “Papa’s going to go to the grocery store. Is there anything he should get?”

“Oreos,” Kurt said. They weren’t quarantined. And Daddy would have never agreed for anyone to leave if he thought it wasn’t safe. “And lemon ice cream too please.”

“Alright baby,” Dave smiled at him absently, grabbing his wallet. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“‘K Papa,” Kurt tilted his head up so he could give Dave a kiss. Then, grabbing Daddy’s hand, he began dragging him to his toy box. “Come play with me Daddy,” he said insistently.

“What are we going to play?” Blaine asked him. Kurt tried to push away the niggling feeling that something was wrong. What could possibly be wrong? Papa was just going grocery stopping, and Daddy was going to play with him. Everything was fine.

Kurt began pulling out his blocks again, “I want you to help me build Prague. Please.”

Blaine nodded and began construction as Kurt directed him.

When Dave arrived home, he was toting a lot of grocery bags. Far more than normal. Kurt hopped up. “I can help,” he said, going to put his shoes on so that he could get bags from the car.

“No,” Dave told him.

“I can do it Papa,” Kurt insisted.

Putting the bags down in the kitchen, Dave took Kurt by both arms, “You stay up here with Daddy. I don’t want you to leave this apartment.”

“I can-”

Dave cut Kurt off with a hard swat, “You will stay up here with Daddy. Do you understand me Kurt Elizabeth?”

Kurt whined, rubbing his butt. “Ow Papa,” he complained.

“I asked if you understood me.”

“Yes,” Kurt said, angry.

Instead of swatting him for his attitude, Papa stood up straight. “Keep him up here. I can get everything in my next trip I think,” he told Blaine.

“Come here,” Blaine told Kurt. 

Papa waited until Kurt was safely next to Blaine before he left the apartment again. Kurt pouted against Daddy’s side, following as he was lead to the couch.

“I wanted to help,” he complained, curling against Daddy and bringing his hand to his mouth. He whined when Daddy smacked the back of his hands.

“No fingers,” Daddy told him. “Use the binky if you want, but no fingers.”

Kurt got off the couch, angry. Daddy and Papa were being mean. Scowling, he made his way back over to his blocks. Grabbing his dinos, he began invading Prague. He knocked some buildings down.

Blaine joined him with a sigh. “I thought you were going to show Papa what a good job we did building Prague,” he said, grabbing Kurt’s hands and stilling them.

“Papa doesn’t care. He’s crabby.”

Blaine nodded, pulling Kurt into his lap. “Do you think he needs early bed?”

“Uh huh,” Kurt continued his invasion, forcing the pterodactyl to divebomb one of the buildings.

Blaine held both of Kurt’s hands for a minute, “And no dessert,” he offered.

Kurt nodded at that, leaning back against Blaine. After a minute, he said, “I was trying to help. That’s good.”

“I know. But Papa told you to stay up here with me; you need to listen to him the first time he says something. How would you like it if we ignored what you were saying to us?”

“You do,” Kurt insisted stubbornly.

Blaine smiled at that, hugging Kurt, “Not agreeing with you or telling you no is not the same thing as not listening. We always listen to you; sometimes, I think you hope we would listen less so we didn’t know what you were doing.”

Kurt was quiet, thinking. He knew Daddy was right, but Papa had been mean when he got home. “He still needs early bedtime. And time out. Isn’t nice to smack me for trying to help.”

Dave had struggled through the door with bags as they talked. Shutting the door, he dead-bolted it behind him. “Kurt, can you help me put groceries away please?”

“I wanted to help you bring them up,” Kurt said, still stung by the rejection of his offer.

“I know you did. I said no. Can you help me put them away?”

Kurt shook his head no, cuddling against Blaine. Papa needed to understand that he couldn’t just be mean to Kurt and then pretend nothing happened. He started to put his fingers his mouth, but he grabbed the pacifier at the last minute. “Busy,” he said around it. “We’re cuddling,” he didn’t tell Papa, but he figured that the fact he wasn’t invited was pretty clear.

He half-expected to be set on his feet with a swat and an admonishment to not be sassy, but Papa simply went into the kitchen and began unpacking. Daddy stayed with Kurt in the living room.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked Kurt.

They were soon involved in another game, this time using Kurt’s castle and the little people. When Papa came out from the kitchen, Kurt pointedly snubbed him.

Dave sat down on the floor next to both of them and picked up a horse. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“We are playing a game, and you are not invited,” Kurt said, avoiding eye contact, his tone bitter.

“We were playing a game, and now Kurt is going to go and take a nap because he’s acting like he’s tired,” Blaine stood Kurt on his feet and gave him a none-too-gentle swat toward the bedroom. “I’ll be in, in a minute to tuck you in baby. Go on.”

Hands on his hips, Kurt complained, “I’m not tired.”

Blaine was busily cleaning up the toys. “You’re either tired or you’re being naughty. Which one is it kitten?”

Kurt knew what that question meant, and he didn’t want Daddy to decide he was being naughty. “Tired.”

“Thought so. Go on,” Blaine looked up to nod toward the bedroom, and Kurt went to bed, scowl on his face.

Papa was the one who ended up coming into the bedroom to tuck Kurt into bed, and this didn’t sit right with Kurt. He finished folding his jeans up and placing them on the chair, then he climbed into bed with Beau and his blanket. When Papa began tucking the blanket around his shoulders, Kurt squirmed.

“I don’t need help. I’m taking a nap,” he closed his eyes, unwilling to talk to Papa.

Dave sighed, sitting on the bed, “Come on pumpkin. Give Papa a break, will you?”

Kurt didn’t respond, not willing to make Papa feel better.

With another sigh, Papa lay down next to Kurt. Poking him in the belly, he said, “Come on Kurt. If you don’t talk to me, I might not be able to keep you safe from the tickle monster.”

That got a response as Kurt’s eyes flew open and he backed as far away from Papa as possible, while remaining on the bed. “No tickle monster,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“No tickle monster?”

Kurt smothered a giggle, “No.”

“Come ‘ere pumpkin,” Dave pulled Kurt over to him so that they could spoon. “I’m sorry I snapped at you baby. I wasn’t thinking, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Do you forgive me?”

“Did you remember my ice cream?”

“Of course. I got two containers because you know Daddy’s going to sneak some as soon as he thinks we’re not watching.”

“I guess I can forgive you then,” Kurt rolled over so he could look at Dave, “But you need to behave yourself.” He kept a stern expression on his face for a minute, but dissolved into giggles when Papa started tickling him again.

“I need to behave myself? Hmmmm bossy kid?” Papa teased.

“Uh huh. Papa stop!” Kurt was wiggling, laughing hard.

Blaine’s voice cut through their fun, “Thought you were getting the baby ready for bed Dave.”

“Just a nap Daddy,” Kurt sat up, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t going to be sent to bed for the night at 3:30.

“Just a nap. Lay down,” Blaine walked over to the bed and pulled the covers over Kurt’s shoulders. Making sure he had Beau tucked in with him, he popped a pacifier into Kurt’s mouth as well. “Binky sweetpea. I don’t want to see your fingers in your mouth when I come to get you up.”

Kurt nodded, curled on his side. He didn’t want to take a nap, but it wouldn’t be so bad he guessed. Daddy and Papa both gave him kisses, and then they left, leaving the room in quiet darkness.

“How was the grocery store?”

“Zoo-y,” Dave said, sliding his shoes back on. “Stay up here. Lock the doors after me. I need to get the rest of the groceries.”

Blaine stood up, walking over to the doors, “You told Kurt you had everything already.”

“Lied. Lock the doors after me. Bolt them too. Don’t let anyone except me in.” Catching Blaine’s face between his hands, Dave leaned to give him a kiss. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.

“I can help you,” Blaine offered.

The look he got in return made him feel a little bit more sympathetic to Kurt. “You stay up here with the baby. Lock and bolt the door. Don’t let anybody in other than me.”

Blaine wasn’t thrilled with that response, but Dave didn’t seem open to discussion, so he did as he was told. Two minutes later, he opened the doors for Dave and was surprised when he was handed more grocery bags.

“Take these. I’ve got two more trips probably. And lock the goddamned door.”

Blaine watched him hustling back down the stairs and to the car. After a moment, he did what Dave had asked. They went through that routine three more times because Dave had underestimated the number of groceries he’d bought, but finally, Papa was back in the apartment.

As they hurriedly put away the groceries, Blaine asked, “What the hell is happening out there?”

“People are going fucking insane,” Dave replied, stacking cans on the counter. He’d bought a lot of canned food, which was unusual for them. Other than Kurt’s near obsessive love of spaghettiOs, they bought canned tomatoes and sometimes beans. 

“What happened?” 

“People are going insane,” Dave repeated, his voice strange. “The grocery store wasn’t that crowded; thank god it’s the middle of the week. But the people who were there? They were grabbing everything they could find. Luckily, most of them were getting fresh food. Which isn’t going to do a damn bit of good if things are going to get as bad as they’re saying. We should fill all the containers we can with water. I didn’t want to try to buy it and then bring it up the steps.”

Blaine grabbed Dave’s arm, not thrilled with the mechanical way he was unloading things and talking. “Is it bad out there?”

When Dave looked at him, he was almost sorry he had asked. “It’s going to be. Help me get this unpacked before Kurt wakes up. If he realizes that I had more stuff down there that he could have helped with, he’s going to want to know why. There’s no reason to upset him. Not if we can keep from it.”

Blaine, wanting to placate Dave more than anything, did as he was asked. Once everything was put away, he tried to get Dave a glass of water and have him sit, but it was like he couldn’t.

Instead, Dave was walking around the kitchen, pulling out anything he could think of that would hold water. “If we lose water, we need to have some ready.”

Only once he had filled as many containers as he could find with water, did Dave finally allow himself to be steered into a chair and handed a glass. “Drink,” Blaine instructed forcefully, waiting until the glass was drained.

“What’s going on?” he asked, wanting answers.

“The people who were there...the store was swamped Blaine. I listened to the radio on my way there and back, they’ve already extended the quarantine through Michigan. It’s going to be here next. We need to decide what we want to do.”

“What do you mean ‘what we want to do’? If we’re quarantined, we stay inside.”

“This thing is ripping through cities, Blaine. They started quarantining people in New York at 4:30 this morning. We’re not even 12 hours later, and whatever the fuck this is has spread to Detroit?”

“So what do you suggest?” Blaine was starting to panic. Dave was acting crazy. The government was quarantining people. They just needed to stay inside. They had food. They had water. They would be fine.

“We could get in the car. Just start driving. It’s moving more quickly through densely populated areas.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. Away from people. Maybe the cabin we rented last year? It’s in the middle of nowhere.”

Blaine stood up, going to get his own water. “Someone is probably already there. It’s June. People are vacationing. We could go back to Lima? It’s small, and we’d be with our families.”

“They’re setting up roadblocks, Blaine. We can’t go east. And if we don’t leave now, we probably won’t be able to go anywhere. So we go or we don’t, but we need to decide now.”

“Decide what?” both men looked up. Kurt was standing in the doorway, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. Clad in only his underwear and shirt, he was dragging his blanket and Beau behind him. “I hadda bad dream. Can my nap be over now?”

Blaine held out an arm to Kurt, waiting until he crawled up into Daddy’s lap. Kissing him on the top of his head, he hugged him tightly, trying to figure out what to do.

They stayed. Mostly because they couldn’t figure out what else to do to begin with. So, they stayed. Kurt wasn’t thrilled with that decision, but he wanted to do the things they absolutely couldn’t.

After several minutes of arguing about wanting to return to Lima to see his family, Papa had enough and spanked him.

Dave didn’t have the patience to pussyfoot around things. Setting Kurt onto his feet, he grabbed him by both arms and gave him a rough shake, “We Cannot Go To Lima. That Isn’t An Option.”

Crying and rubbing his bottom, Kurt jerked away from Papa and flung himself at Daddy. Blaine understood where Dave was coming from, but he didn’t think upsetting the baby was going to do any of them any good.

“Shhhhhh,” he said, rubbing Kurt’s back as he tried to soothe him. “You need to listen to what Papa and I are telling you. We can’t go to Lima right now baby. We need to decide if we want to stay here or try going someplace else.”

“Stay,” Kurt whimpered, clinging to Blaine. “Don’t want to go no place.”

Blaine figured Kurt was right. It’s not like they knew if there was anywhere that was any safer. As they were deciding on this, Indianapolis became the newest quarantine area. Even if they wanted to leave, they couldn’t now.

So, they sat in the apartment. They ate the food that they had in the refrigerator; Dave wouldn’t let them touch the stuff he’d bought. 

The first couple of days would have actually been fun, if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety about what was going on outside their doors and what was happening to their families. Everyone was in such a panic that it was almost impossible to get calls through. 

Plus, Daddy and Papa had wrapped his fingers with band aids so he couldn’t suck on them. But, Daddy and Papa were both at home, playing with Kurt. He could basically pick any game he wanted, including Pretty Pretty Princess, and they would play it. The only thing that was off-limits entirely was leaving the apartment.

They were even allowing Kurt to watch the news. Mostly it was because they didn’t have any options. The news ran all the time; Blaine wanted to make sure that they were getting the most recent information. 

It had been an argument between Daddy and Papa, how much Kurt should know. They had started out wanting to protect him, but as things got worse, it became apparent that he had to be told what was going on.

It wasn’t fair to not let him know. So, he was allowed to watch the news. He listened to the conversations they were having about what was happening, and what they were going to do. Dave wanted to have him weighing in, but Kurt had flat out refused.

Curling up in Daddy’s lap, rubbing the satin edge of his blanket against his nose, he wouldn’t answer questions. After the first discussion about staying or going, he couldn’t. 

He had told them to stay in Indianapolis, and now they couldn’t even leave the apartment. The virus was spreading faster than anyone had expected, and he didn’t want to be the one making the choices. People were dying; he couldn’t be responsible for whether they were safe.

So Daddy and Papa made the decisions. Still. And Kurt got progressively quieter, watching as they worried about the best thing to do. 

He didn’t know what to do. Daddy and Papa were supposed to know. If they didn’t know, then what was going to happen?

Locked in their apartment, Papa and Daddy eventually boarded up the windows. They had a pretty good supply of batteries. Most of them were even unused. Kurt’s toys needed the same batteries as most of their flashlights. The only exception were the crank flashlights that Kurt had gotten for Christmas the year before. 

He had two of them, and they looked like animals, but they were actually pretty good. Kurt liked them, and it had prevented the “grown up flashlights” from being misappropriated. 

Dave had never thought that they would be used because the president had declared a state of emergency, but he figured that was true for a lot of things now.

Five weeks after the first reports, things had gotten bad. There were no longer news broadcasts on the television. The Internet was gone. Cell phone towers didn’t work. 

“It’s just a matter of time before the power goes out,” Dave murmured to Blaine, as Kurt watched Lady and the Tramp for what seemed like the millionth time. “Let him watch it. He won’t be able to soon enough.”

It took another week, but his prediction was right. So they were left in an apartment with boarded up windows, no power, and no way to contact the outside world. Dave could occasionally find information on the battery powered radio, and that’s where they were first told of Safe Haven.

Safe Haven was supposedly patrolled by the military. They had food, water. Maybe even electricity. It was where people from the tri-state area were supposed to go.

When Kurt that, he finally made a decision. “I want to go,” he told them.

“Kurt, we don’t know that your dad is going to be there,” Dave wanted to make sure that Kurt understood. Before, it would have taken three hours to get to Safe Haven. Now? Dave wasn’t sure. None of them had left the apartment in six weeks.

“I want to go,” Kurt stubbornly repeated. He was unwilling to discuss it further. Whenever Daddy or Papa tried to talk about it with him, he would simply say, “I want to go,” never even altering the phrase.

They didn’t know what else to do. Safe Haven was supposed to be exactly that. They wanted to go someplace safe, and if they had family alive, they would be there too. Hopefully.

So, Dave and Blaine began talking. And planning. This wasn’t something that either of them would run into. They needed to figure out what they were doing. They needed to decide what stuff to pack. 

There was the obvious food and clothing. Water. But what food? What clothing? They didn’t know when, if ever, they would be able to come back for their stuff. Both of them knew that Kurt was going to insist upon bringing Beau and his blanket. They knew that he couldn’t bring all of his toys, but they didn’t even want to try leaving Beau and the special blanket. Photographs. Years and years of photographs of the three of them, not to mention family photos.

They spent close to four hours talking about it, and Kurt was getting progressively more frustrated. He wanted to go. The way he saw it, they could plan all they wanted. He was sure that plenty of the people who had already died had planned. They just needed to go.

And, in an effort to prove that point, he walked over to the front door, pulled it open, and stepped outside.

Daddy and Papa had been together in the kitchen, sorting food and deciding what to bring, when they realized they no longer had heard the low babble of Kurt playing stuffed animal fashion show. 

“Kurt?” Daddy called, expecting to hear the customary sigh that came when Kurt was interrupted. When he didn’t, he called again, “Kurt Elizabeth, you need to answer me please.”

Dave had stood up, walking to the living room, “Kurt, I know you’re mad-” when he saw the abandoned toys, he yelled, “KURT?”

Without any response, Blaine began scouring the apartment; that’s when they noticed the front door was no longer deadbolted.

Dave was out of the apartment immediately, not bothering to grab anything to arm himself. “Stay here,” he ordered Blaine. Running through the hallway, he called for Kurt, not caring if he drew anything else to him.

Their building was only three stories tall; it took Dave less than five minutes from the time he realized Kurt was missing to make it to the lobby. Those five minutes were enough time to realize how very much the world had changed in the time they’d locked themselves inside.

Most of the apartment doors were open, but he didn’t see any people inside. Looking out the window at the end of a hallway, he saw groups of people milling around. They didn’t look good. Their skin was a weird grey, and many of them had open wounds. 

Kurt was in the lobby, huddled in a corner, rocking a little bit as he cried. When he saw Papa, he held his arms out to be picked up. He had looked out the windows at the front when he heard a scream; there was a crowd of people, ripping apart a woman. It looked almost like they were eating her, but Kurt was sure that he was wrong. The news had mentioned the violence, but there was no way things were that bad. They couldn’t be. Nonetheless, Kurt was now terrified, and he had been unable to make his legs work well enough to get him upstairs.

Dave rushed to Kurt, pulling him to his feet and then tossing him over his shoulder. “Don’t say anything,” he threatened quietly. He moved as quickly and quietly as possible. He had caught sight of the people outside, and he didn’t want them to know that there was anyone less in the building. Especially because, although their building was locked against intruders, the doors were glass. A mob that size would easily be able to get inside.

Dave made it up the first flight of stairs with no problems. It wasn’t until he got to their floor that he finally ran into another apartment inhabitant.

Celeste. She was five, and she lived two doors down from them. When he saw the back of her curly little head, Dave put Kurt down, and knelt to talk to the little girl.

“Sweetheart, where’s your mommy and daddy?” he asked quietly. “It’s dangerous out here; you need to be with a grown up.”

Celeste turned to look at Dave, and he cursed, standing up and pushing Kurt behind him in one fluid motion. Whatever was wrong with the people outside, Celeste had it too. 

Her skin was a mottled grey, and there were open, oozing sores. Staring at Dave with blank eyes, she licked her dry lips, and then began lurching toward them.

Dave cast about desperately, trying to figure out what he could use to defend himself and Kurt with. Kurt had no such thoughts, instead shrieking, “DADDY!”

Celeste was between Dave and Kurt, and the apartment. When Blaine opened the door, relieved to hear Kurt, he stepped in the hallway.

Now Celeste couldn’t decide who to go after. She had heard the door opening, and she turned to look at Blaine. He recoiled when he saw her face, and she stopped, trying to decide where to go.

That moment of indecision cost her. Dave realized that Kurt had one of the grown up flashlights. Although Dave normally got upset and spanked Kurt for taking the flashlights, today, he was thrilled. 

Grabbing the maglite, he took the three steps to Celeste, and swung it at her head, as hard as he could. Kurt shrieked in shock as Celeste went down; she was only five years old, and she was tiny.

Her skull burst open like a piece of overripe fruit, and Kurt continued screaming. Bashing her head several more times, until he was absolutely certain she wouldn’t be getting up again, Dave finally dropped the flashlight. 

Breathing heavily, he stared in shock at the corpse in front of him. He’d never even gone hunting, and now he’d killed a little girl. 

Luckily for both of them, Blaine managed to remain calm. He ran to Kurt, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Hush,” he said harshly. If Celeste was still in the building, it was possible that there were more people. And regardless of whether they were sick or not, nobody was going to take kindly to the sweet and timid kindergartener’s demise. 

Grabbing Kurt’s hand, he dragged the unresisting man back to the apartment. With a kick at Dave, he got the other man moving, “Get in the apartment,” he hissed, terrified.

Once he had both men in the apartment with the door locked, he began checking Kurt over for wounds. “Go wash your hands. And your face. And change your clothes. Do that first before you wash,” he ordered Dave.

Kurt was shaking, shocked, as Blaine stripped his clothes off. 

“Are you okay?” Daddy asked him.

Kurt nodded numbly. After a minute, he whispered, “Papa just killed Celeste. Oh God. Oh God. Papa just-”

Blaine slapped Kurt across the face. It wasn’t hard, but he was worried at the hysterical note that was creeping into the baby’s voice. “Stop Kurt. Everything’s fine. Are you okay?”

“The people out there,” Kurt whispered, staring at Blaine. “There’s something wrong with them.”

“They’re sick baby,” Daddy said, his voice low. “Other than Celeste, who did you see?”

“There was a mob? Outside?”

“Did they see you?”

Kurt shook his head, “They hurt somebody else. Then Papa found me.”

“Let’s get you into jammies,” Daddy murmured, steering Kurt to the bedroom. 

Kurt was docile, following Blaine to the bedroom. When he saw Dave, he held his arms out, “Papa?”

Dave had scrubbed himself with soap, and he was now trying to find clean clothes. Once he was dressed, he squatted down in front of Kurt. “Are you okay?” he said.

When Kurt nodded, eyes full of tears, Dave hugged him tightly. “Why did you go outside baby?”

Kurt shrugged. He didn’t really know. He couldn’t remember why he had thought it was a good idea anymore. 

“What was that?” Dave asked.

“I dunno Papa,” Kurt whispered, clinging to Dave.

“I’m going to go make the baby some warm milk,” Blaine excused himself. It had become harder to cook, but Dave had figured out a way to MacGuyver the gas stove. That, coupled with the little containers of organic milk that they had on hand, meant that he could still make Kurt’s preferred drink when he was upset.

“Can you help him wash his hands and get him into pajamas?” he asked before he left.

Dave nodded, taking Kurt into the bathroom. After thoroughly scrubbing Kurt’s hands for him, he dried them off. Kurt was shaking violently, and Papa decided to put him into the footy pajamas. Picking Kurt up, he walked out to the living room.

“Beau Bunny Papa?” Kurt asked, reaching for the rabbit as they passed the bed.

Dave wanted to simply put Kurt in time out. He knew they needed to punish him. But, he was worried about Kurt being a little shocky. So, grabbing Beau and the blanket from the bed, he wrapped Kurt up. It was warm outside, but even in the warm pajamas, Kurt was shivering. 

Taking the baby to the living room, he sat on the couch and cuddled with him. Rocking Kurt, he happily accepted the bottle of warm milk from Blaine. “Come on baby,” he murmured, slipping the nipple into Kurt’s mouth. “Drink this for Papa.”

Kurt took his bottle, watching Dave and Blaine with wide eyes. When it was gone, he curled against Dave’s chest. He wanted to stay cuddled like that. 

The world might be ending outside, but he seriously doubted that was going to make Daddy or Papa think that they should suspend their usual rules about leaving the apartment, especially without telling anybody. 

As though he had read Kurt’s mind, Daddy started the lecture. “What on EARTH were you thinking Kurt Elizabeth Hummel?”

Kurt cringed. This was going to get ugly.

He didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t really anything. “I wanted to show you that it was safe,” was not going to be a good thing to tell them since it very clearly wasn’t.

Papa forced him to sit up straight and look at both of them, “We’re waiting for an answer Kurt Elizabeth.”

That wasn’t good. They apparently weren’t going to be calling him baby or pumpkin or even just Kurt during this lecture. 

“Do you need an incentive to talk to us?” Daddy asked, his voice deceptively pleasant.

Kurt shook his head no. Incentives were very very very bad. “I don’t know Daddy. I wanted to go outside; I didn’t know it was like that.”

“Are you allowed to just wander off by yourself without telling anyone anything?” Dave was the one asking the question this time.

Kurt looked down, “Nosir.”

“And are you allowed to leave the apartment at all right now?”

Face burning, Kurt said again, “Nosir.”

Blaine stood up, “I’m going to get the playpen,” he explained to Dave. He figured they needed to talk before they punished Kurt. This was a big deal; this was probably the single most dangerous thing Kurt had ever done. They couldn’t risk him doing it again, so the punishment had to be bad.

Which meant there needed to be a discussion first, and Blaine wanted it made very clear to Kurt that he was considered to be a very naughty little baby who couldn’t be left alone for even a moment. Kurt despised that.

Bringing the large blanket back out, he put it on the ground. He didn’t bother to tell Kurt to come over, instead picking him up from Dave’s lap and settling him onto the blanket. He didn’t offer Kurt any toys though; he could spend his time thinking.

Squatting down to Kurt’s level, Blaine told him, “Papa and I need to talk about what just happened and what is an appropriate punishment. You stay here. Do you understand me?”

Kurt nodded, bringing his knees up to rest his chin. This was going to be very very bad.

“I need to hear you promise.”

“I promise.”

“What?” Blaine knew that Kurt was upset right now; he wasn’t worried that he would leave. But they needed to make a point.

“I promise to stay here Daddy.” 

“Good boy,” Daddy leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I want you to understand something Kurt. Papa and I love you very very much, and you scared us earlier when you left. You are already in very big trouble. If you move one inch off of the blanket, you are going to be an even sorrier little boy. You don’t want that. Is that understood?”

Kurt nodded, trying not to cry. He had been too focused on proving his point earlier; he should have thought more.

Standing up, Blaine asked Dave, “Will you step into the kitchen with me?” They could prop the door and have a clear view of Kurt from there. Dave nodded, following Daddy to the kitchen.

Kurt could see them, and he could hear the low rumble of conversation, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. His tummy was twisty, and Kurt curled into a ball. He was starting to think that getting attacked by the mob was preferable to whatever was coming.

“He’s getting a spanking,” Blaine started, “but I don’t think that’s enough.”

It took Dave a minute to respond. He couldn’t let himself fall apart. Not where Kurt could see him. “Yeah,” he finally muttered.

Blaine walked over, hugging him, “Kurt’s fine,” he murmured. “He’s fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine.”

“Not Celeste,” Dave said. 

Blaine stepped back so he could make eye contact, “You did what you had to do to protect your family. And you know what they said about it; Celeste was sick. She was going to die anyway.”

Dave nodded. “I think I want to lie down. Do you mind taking care of it?”

“I can, but do you want to talk about it first?” Blaine was worried; he couldn’t have Dave fall apart now.

Dave shook his head, “Spank him with the hairbrush. Maybe use that trick we saw Santana use? She swore it makes it hurt worse, and if Brit’s response was anything to go by...”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed. “It’s going to be a bad one. You might want to put your headphones on. And I think someone’s in for baby time.”

Dave nodded again, “I’m going to go lie down.”

Blaine watched him walk through the living room and back to the bedroom. When Kurt saw Papa just walk past him, he began to cry.

With a sigh, Blaine went to join him. Sitting on the floor, he pulled Kurt into his lap, “You’re okay,” he murmured, rocking gently.

“Papa’s mad,” Kurt cried. “He don’t love me no more.”

“Papa always loves you, but he was scared,” Blaine corrected. “What you did was very very naughty Kurt. It was dangerous, and it scared Papa and me. You cannot ever do that again. Do you understand me?”

“Uh huh,” Kurt whispered. He pressed against Daddy, needing the cuddles badly. “Sorry Daddy.”

“Did you know you weren’t supposed to leave the apartment?” Blaine knew the answer, but he wanted to go over it again.

“Yes sir,” Kurt’s voice was tiny as he responded.

“When you deliberately disobey us like that, Kurt, we can’t trust you. What happens when we can’t trust you to behave unless we’re watching you?”

Kurt slid his fingers up toward his mouth, wanting to suck badly. Daddy caught them before he could though. “You need to answer me please.”

“I can’t be ‘lone because I was bad,” Kurt whispered. 

“You can’t be left alone because you showed us that you don’t make good choices. That was a very bad choice to leave the apartment; you are not bad,” Blaine corrected.

“Baby time,” Kurt said. He hated baby time. But he probably deserved it.

“Oh yes. You are in for baby time from now until one of us tells you otherwise. Stand up please.”

Kurt struggled to his feet. When Daddy got up, Kurt was pulled up onto a hip, and Daddy walked back to the bedroom to retrieve the hairbrush from on top of the dresser.

He knew he had been bad, but Kurt couldn’t help but begin begging, “Please Daddy! No brush. It hurts lot and lots, and I’ll ‘member now. I promise.” The brush was the worst; Kurt had only gotten a few spankings that ended with the brush, but they were memorable.

“Oh, I think definitely the brush, baby. This was a very naughty thing you did.” Blaine kept his voice low, carrying Kurt into the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth. After thoroughly wetting it, he carried Kurt, along with the cloth and the brush, to the living room.

Kurt was tense; Daddy must be planning on a big spanking if he was already getting the washcloth to wipe Kurt’s face. They only needed a washcloth, as opposed to tissues, when it was going to be bad.

Daddy sat down at a dining room chair that he pulled well clear of the table. Positioning Kurt between his knees, he asked, “What is this for?”

“Leaving the ‘partment without a grown up,” Kurt whispered, face burning. He hated being held there, like Daddy couldn’t even trust him to not run.

“And why is that bad?” Blaine was patient now. Calm. He had a plan. It might be awful out there, but in their apartment, they still had rules and punishments.

“‘Sdangerous,” Kurt started. “‘Sbad to leave the ‘partment without a grown up. Very very naughty.”

“Sounds about right,” Blaine replied, unzipping Kurt’s pajamas and helping him step out. After positioning the naked boy across his lap, he carefully laid the washcloth on Kurt’s bottom.

Kurt jumped from the cold, “Daddy? What are you doing?”

“Punishing you,” Blaine said calmly. After making sure that Kurt’s backside was wet, he rested one hand on it. “I want you to think about why you’re in trouble, Kurt. This was a very big deal; you could have gotten hurt. Papa could have gotten hurt. You said you wanted to try to go to Safe Haven, but we can’t even trust you to obey us in the apartment.”

Kurt nodded miserably at that, and tensed, waiting.

Blaine didn’t make him wait long. He wasn’t cruel. Raising his hand high, he slapped down hard. The answering wail surprised him, and Blaine paused to grab a nearby pacifier. Holding it down toward Kurt’s mouth, he waited a minute.

When Kurt didn’t take it, he said, “Baby, I need you to use this. I can’t have you making a lot of noise.”

“It hurts Daddy,” Kurt said, sounding equal parts surprised by the amount of pain that a single smack had brought and offended that Daddy was apparently not going to allow me the freedom of making noise.

“I know. That’s kind of the point. You need to think about what’s happening and why,” Blaine explained. “I need you to not make noise so nobody hears us.”

Wiggling, Kurt continued to complain, “You don’t normally care when I make noise,” he grumbled.

“Well, we’re not normally in the middle-” Blaine cut himself off, shaking his head. ‘Do not get pulled into a debate’. It wasn’t the number one rule for their relationship, that was definitely ‘all decisions are made based on what’s best for the baby,’ but it was definitely in the top five. Kurt remained extremely persuasive. Dave was more prone to it than Blaine, but part of that was Blaine’s unwillingness to participate most of the time.

He started over. “You need to be quiet during this spanking. I’m offering you the binky, or you can use a pillow. Being quiet isn’t a punishment, but you need to listen to me please.”

“The ‘partment is quiet Daddy,” Kurt responded irritably. He was right. The reason he was normally able to be as vocal as he needed was because of the odd construction of their building. It was old, but very well insulated. Plus, they had decorated with plenty of fabric, which added an extra layer of sound absorption. Noise didn’t travel well.

Hating himself a little bit, Blaine quickly pinched Kurt’s inner thigh. That got a squeal, which he quickly shushed. “You’re in trouble already for disobeying Papa and me. Do you really want to make this any worse?”

“No pinching,” Kurt protested, squirming mightily. They weren’t supposed to do that. “Pinching is hurting Daddy, and that’s not ‘llowed.”

He pinched again, this time pressing a hand over Kurt’s mouth. “You need to listen Kurt, and you need to obey. Do you want bedtime spankings?”

Kurt shook his head at that, but he wasn’t going to simply let this go. “Imma tell Papa. You’re not s’posed to hurt me.”

“This isn’t a debate. You have two choices right now. One is about how you’re going to be quiet, and the other is about whether you want to make this very bad punishment worse.”

“You’re mean,” Kurt told him. “You’re mean, and I don’t like you right now. I want my Papa.”

“Papa’s tired; he’s resting. And you’re being a disobedient little baby at the moment, and I don’t particularly like your behavior. Now make a decision, or you can go wait on the naughty stool.”

Kurt pouted, glaring at the ground for a minute. Then, he reached out for the pacifier. Deciding to voice his complaints one more time, he said, “You’re the meanest, and I’m going to tell Papa later. And he’s going to be mad at you because you’re not ‘llowed to hurt me. And,” he paused, trying to think of a good threat, “And you should be worried because Papa is a lot bigger than you.” Satisfied, he put the pacifier in his mouth, and then waited.

It took a minute for Blaine to start spanking again. Mostly, he was trying to repress the urge to laugh, but then he realized that Kurt’s lengthy objections had allowed the water to dry. With a sigh, he re-wet. Then, he began spanking again.

Kurt bit down on the pacifier, hard. It hurt. Brit was right; this hurt way more on a wet bottom. As he was squirming and thinking about this, small noises of discomfort filtering through around the pacifier, Blaine was watching. He wanted to get Kurt warmed up enough that he wasn’t going to hurt him with the brush, but this lesson needed to be very clear to Kurt. 

Stopping, he re-wet the skin, the he gripped the brush. Bringing it down, he watched as Kurt jerked, and then forced himself to relax. 

Kurt had closed his eyes tightly, and his jaw was clenched around the pacifier. The hairbrush hurt a lot more than just Daddy’s hand, but at least that meant the spanking was winding down. To be honest, Kurt thought he would probably get a worse spanking for leaving the apartment, but he wasn’t going to complain; Papa and Daddy did not appreciate how much the spankings hurt in general. If they were going to be lenient, Kurt would not object.

Dave hadn’t bothered to put his headphones in; he didn’t want to not hear what was going on. It seemed dangerous. So he listened as Blaine began paddling Kurt in earnest. Every five smacks or so, there was a pause. Dave wasn’t sure what the pause meant, but he could hear the pattern; Blaine tended to be more methodical during a punishment.

Daddy was considering Kurt’s bottom. He’d taken about 25 swats with the hairbrush, and Blaine had stopped to re-wet his bottom. They were entering uncharted territory; Kurt had only ever gotten 30 with the brush, and it wasn’t on wet skin.

Kurt was trying to breathe through his nose. It was just a spanking; it hurt, but it was just a spanking. He could get through this, it was almost over.

When the spanking didn’t end after the next five swats, Kurt almost objected. Then, he realized that this was a big deal spanking. Of course Daddy and Papa weren’t going to end it at the usual time. He probably had another five coming. As he cried, he decided to brace himself for ten; that was reasonable. It would definitely be done by then.

Ten came and went, and Kurt became frantic. “No more Daddy,” he said around the pacifier. “No more. Hurts!”

“Yes more,” Blaine forced himself to continue. “The point of a spanking is for it to hurt. This was a very big naughty thing you did; I don’t want to ever have to repeat this spanking. I’ll stop when I think you’re done.”

Kurt hung his head at that, dropping the pacifier. Bawling, he couldn’t breathe through his nose anymore, and Blaine handed him a pillow after he finished with the washcloth. “Here Kurt,” he said. 

Grabbing the pillow, Kurt shoved his face into it. Daddy was mean. He was the meanest Daddy ever, and Kurt couldn’t believe the spanking wasn’t over. As Blaine continued, he became frantic.

It wasn’t even that the spanking was that much worse than normal. It was, but Kurt had figured out long ago that they had no intention of actually hurting him. It was the lack of knowing. The hairbrush usually had a stated end. If it was more than a dozen with the brush, Daddy or Papa always told Kurt the number. It was the not knowing that was the most distressing. 

He knew from experience that Daddy and Papa weren’t going to injure him. They’d both gotten altogether too good at this, and they had learned how to incite a wicked burn or sting without bruising. Which, in Kurt’s mind, meant this could go on forever. It would hurt and hurt and hurt, but it would never stop.

That thought was what broke him. Daddy was going to spank him forever. Papa was going to be napping, so he wouldn’t know about this grave injustice. Kurt didn’t believe for one moment that Papa would condone this.

Blaine let out a little sigh of relief; Kurt had entered the hysterical crying phase, and he was hanging limply over Daddy’s lap. Forcing himself to crack the brush down another dozen times, he set it aside and began rubbing soothing circles on Kurt’s back.

That was a no go with Kurt. He might have stopped fighting, but Kurt still wasn’t happy. Grabbing the pacifier, he forced his shaky legs under him and Kurt stood up. He wanted to rub, but it hurt way too much for that. He settled for glaring at Daddy as he bounced up and down a little bit, hands clenching and unclenching at his side.

“Baby, come here. Let’s cuddle,” Blaine said.

Kurt shook his head no, shaking badly as he tried to force himself into control so that he could tell Daddy what was what. It took him a minute. 

“I’m going to cuddle with Papa,” he said, trying to muster as much dignity as possible given that he was standing completely nude in front of his boyfriend, his backside on fire, and a pacifier still between his lips. “You’re mean, and I don’t want your cuddles.” Turning, he tried to flounce out of the room.

It was hard to do a dignified storming off when one was completely nude, but Kurt did his best. Going back into the bedroom, he crawled beside Papa on the bed. Burrowing against Dave’s chest, he rubbed his face to Papa’s tee-shirt.

“Daddy’s mean,” he told Dave, wrapping his arms around him so that he didn’t suck on his fingers.

Dave obligingly hugged Kurt, rubbing his back. “You earned that spanking. Every last bit of it pumpkin.”

Kurt didn’t like that response, and he opened his mouth to argue. 

Dave didn’t even let it start. One of the hands rubbing Kurt’s back slid down to cup his bottom. He pressed gently, starting off a new round of tears. Kurt pressed further against Dave, trying to wiggle away.

“You’re both mean,” he managed to whimper out.

“And you’re a disobedient little boy who needs to learn to do what he’s told,” Kurt tensed at hearing Daddy’s voice. A moment later, Beau Bunny was tucked between Kurt and Papa, and Kurt felt the familiar weight of his blanket being tucked around him. “I want you to take a nap with Papa,” Blaine told him.

Kurt managed to refrain from arguing. He was going to take a nap anyway, and there was not point to sassing Daddy. Especially since he had apparently decided to use Santana’s trick. Closing his eyes, Kurt tried to match his breathing to Papa’s. Maybe when he woke up, he wouldn’t be so sore anymore.

Blaine let them both sleep for several hours. They were going to need to be well rested. As they napped, he sorted photographs. 

He had three piles. One was for no, the other was for yes. The third pile was for the it would be nice photographs. He made himself be brutally honest, and he had capped the number he would allow. 50. It was a nice round number, and he kept going through the yes pile, pulling more of them out.

When that was done, he quickly rubber banded the pictures together. Then, he stored away the boxes they wouldn’t take. If they came back at some point, he would at least know where everything was.

Looking at the picture on top, he let himself float for a minute, thinking. It was one of Kurt’s favorites, a casual photo of him, sitting on his mother’s lap. Someone, probably Burt, had managed to catch them just as Elizabeth whispered something in Kurt’s ear; if Blaine was being honest, this was his favorite childhood photo of Kurt. 

Going on to the kitchen, he began the same process with food. They needed water, as much as they could bring. Then he had to consider vitamins, portability, calories, and whether Kurt was going to eat something without too much of a fuss.

He had discarded the idea of rice and beans. Although Kurt would eat them, that would mean using water. Which would mean hauling more water. They needed to stick to mostly canned food; Dave had thought to pick up dried fruit and nuts as well.

Blaine was methodical, stacking cans in meal groups so he could count how many days’ worth he had. Then, he quickly organized the cans into boxes. Finally, he grabbed enough food for a few days, and he split it evenly between three old backpacks he had found. 

He wanted to stop organizing. He wanted to lock himself into the bedroom with his boyfriends. Before the television had gone out, there had been people screaming about the end of the world. If this was the end, Blaine didn’t want to waste his time travelling to a place that may or may not exist.

He didn’t let himself think too much; Dave wanted to go too. He just needed to keep moving forward. That meant water next.

At least that didn’t take any thinking. He had to fill water bottles. For what was perhaps the first time in the entirety of their relationship, Blaine allowed himself to feel smug about his lack of organizational skills. Now was not the time, but he kind of wanted to wake Kurt up to point out that, if it weren’t for Blaine’s inability to ever find his water bottle, they would not have enough bottles. He would finally win an argument.

Blaine kept himself moving. He kept hearing that stupid fish from Finding Nemo in his head. ‘Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming swimming swimming.’ Apparently, even when he only won arguments with Kurt in his mind, imaginary Kurt just did something that made the win not worth it. Blaine was going to be stuck hearing that line for at least a day or two.

As he was cursing imaginary Kurt, the real Kurt came out of the bedroom. He’d apparently managed to dress himself without waking Dave, and he was trailing Beau Bunny behind him. Walking over to Blaine, he wordlessly pressed against him.

Daddy hugged him and rubbed his back, “Did you have a good nap?”

Kurt nodded, scrubbing at his eyes with his free hand, and Blaine waited. It took a minute, but Kurt said, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Blaine told him. Kurt was pretty much always sorry when the punishment was over. He sometimes needed an hour or two to nap or color, but he always apologized eventually.

Daddy cuddled with Kurt for a little bit before he asked, “Do you want to help me pack?”

Kurt pulled back, looking up at Daddy, “I thought you couldn’t trust me because I was naughty?”

“We’re not going to make a major life decision based on you not listening to us one time. What you did was very very very naughty Kurt. It was probably the naughtiest thing I have ever seen you do. That doesn’t mean that we’re going to change all of our plans.”

“We’re still going?” Kurt doesn’t want to let himself get excited, but he wants to go. He wants to go to Safe Haven so bad; he knows if they get to Safe Haven, everything will be fine.

Daddy nodded, “We are. I’ve been getting ready. We need to talk to Papa about when we’re leaving.”

“Now,” Kurt said, pulling further away and rushing to wake Dave up. He got pulled up short by one arm.

“No. Not now. Let Papa sleep. We’re going to pack and plan.”

“No Daddy,” Kurt’s face had taken on a familiar stubborn expression. “I want to go now.”

“Do you want another spanking?” Blaine asked him.

That got a quick shake of the head. Kurt was still really sore.

“We’re going to be driving pumpkin; I would think you’d want to give your bottom as much time to heal as possible.”

That made sense, but that didn’t mean it made Kurt happy. Leaning against Daddy, he said, “I just want to go now though Daddy.”

“I understand.” Blaine was patient, “We’re not though. Now, are you going to help me pack?” He managed to get Kurt focused on packing, leaving Dave to his nap.

When Papa got up, Kurt wanted to discuss when they were leaving. Dave wasn’t having it. “Did you get him out of bed?” he asked Blaine.

“I comed out to help Daddy,” Kurt said proudly.

He wished he had kept his mouth shut when Papa looked at him. “You were supposed to stay where you were put until a grown up told you otherwise.”

“Dave,” Blaine put a hand on Dave’s arm. “He came out to help me. He’s okay.”

Dave shrugged him off, “He is NOT okay. He was told to stay with a grown up, not to wander all over the apartment.”

“Dave, why don’t we talk in the kitchen. Kurt,” Daddy turned to look at him, “I want you on your playpen. Understood?”

Kurt nodded and moved to the blanket as quickly as he could. It hurt when he sat down, but he stayed put. Papa was pissed; Kurt did not need to make Daddy angry too.

“He was supposed to stay in bed,” Dave said.

Blaine hoisted himself onto the counter. “Yup.”

“I’m going to spank him.”

“Dave, you need to calm down. I just spanked him; he’s sore. He forgot. And frankly Dave, so did I. You can’t spank him if I didn’t even remember.”

“What do you suggest doing that?” Dave was icy.

“Remind him and maybe give him a couple of swats.”

“He can’t do this Blaine. It is dangerous out there. He can’t just do whatever he wants. He needs to remember what we tell him.”

“Yeah,” Blaine wasn’t willing to argue with Dave. He knew he was right. He just couldn’t agree to spanking Kurt after he’d already gotten spanked earlier.

“Fine,” Dave moved toward the living room, and Blaine reached out to catch him.

“He’s okay. You’re okay. I get that you were scared, but everyone is okay. Just remember that when you go out to remind him, and then deal with it.”

Dave nodded, breathing deeply several times. After he felt calmer, he went out to where Kurt was resting on the blanket. Squatting down beside him, he began lecturing.

“What’s the rule about baby time Kurt?”

Kurt had his lip between his teeth, and he stared at Papa with worried eyes. “Gotta stay with a grown up,” he whispered.

“That’s right. Daddy put you down for a nap; you were supposed to stay with me until either he or I said you could get up. Did you do that?”

“No sir,” Kurt looked at his hands. “Sorry. I forgetted.”

“We can’t have you forgetting, Kurt. It’s too dangerous. You have got to listen to us and remember what we tell you.”

Kurt nodded tearfully. “Sorry Papa. I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry wouldn’t fix it if you got hurt. Come here please,” Papa sat down on the couch, motioning Kurt over.

Kurt didn’t want to go to Papa. He had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen, and he was still really sore from earlier. But not going over was a worse idea. Standing up, he slowly walked to stand in front of Dave. “Please no Papa,” he begged pathetically. “Daddy spanked me really hard.”

Papa pulled Kurt over his lap. Cracking his hand down hard half a dozen times, he listened to Kurt’s whimpers.

“If you don’t want spankings, then you need to obey Daddy and me. If you need another reminder about staying with one of us, I’ll use the hairbrush again.”

Helping Kurt to his feet, Papa pulled him into a hug. He rubbed Kurt’s back as the baby cried into his shoulder. “Sorry Papa. Sorry,” he kept whimpering.

“I know you are pumpkin,” Dave murmured. “I know.” He pulled Kurt down to sit in his lap, grabbing Beau Bunny from where Kurt had abandoned him on the couch when he woke up. They sat together for a little bit, neither man saying anything.

Once Kurt stopped crying, Dave started talking. “I love you so much Kurt. I spank you because I love you, and I want you safe. Do you understand?”

Kurt nodded, “I know Papa. I love you too.”

Dave figured that was enough lectures. He knew Kurt had already heard everything earlier from Blaine. Cuddling Kurt close, he asked, “You were helping Daddy?”

“Uh huh,” Kurt nodded, smiling. “I’m a good helper. We have food and water all ready. We picked out some pictures. Daddy says I can’t bring all my stuff, but we’re bringing Beau and my blanket so I can sleep. And we have pillows and sleeping bags and blankets. Daddy says the tent is in the basement.”

Blaine entered at that point, bringing a glass of water for Dave and a bottle for Kurt. Handing both over to Dave, he settled next to the other men. “I’m thinking we might be better just sleeping in the car. At least we’ll have some warning if anybody comes along.”

“Probably a good plan,” Dave pulled Blaine against him. He didn’t want to let go of either of them for the moment. They could pack later.

Kurt seemed to agree with that sentiment, although he couldn’t stop telling Papa things. “We have to bring the air mattress in case there’s no place to sleep at Safe Haven, Papa. And we should bring gas canisters. And cash. And we need to pack clothes. Daddy says only practical clothes, but I need to bring my McQueen sweater.”

Dave nodded, smiling at Kurt. Everything was okay. It was chaos outside, but Kurt was acting like he usually did.

It took another two days before Dave and Blaine decided they were actually ready to leave. They had packed and repacked. Dave had taken masking tape, marking off a space in the living room the size of the trunk. Everything had to fit in there. 

When they were done, they had the food and water Blaine had packed, sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, spare gas canisters, matches, flashlights, the photographs, some kitchen stuff, clothing, the big first aid kit, toothbrushes and soap, and makeshift weapons. Of course, Kurt had Beau Bunny, his blanket, and two pacifiers. Papa had packed a bag with some things to keep Kurt entertained. It had been an argument, but he had won; he figured that a bored Kurt was a dangerous Kurt.

Daddy and Papa had talked about how to get everything to the car. It was too much for one trip, even if all three of them carried things. After many discussions, it was decided that Dave and Blaine would work to get things into the car. Dave would carry, and Blaine would hold onto the baseball bat.

Kurt wasn’t thrilled about being left in the apartment by himself, but they weren’t negotiating about this. Laying his playpen blanket out, Kurt was plopped down with a strict admonition not to move. He had pouted, but he stayed, watching Daddy and Papa move everything. 

They were quick and efficient, and Kurt was happy once they were done. He was less happy when he watched Daddy fold up the blanket and then grab the hairbrush. 

“We don’t need to bring those Daddy,” Kurt says quickly, folding his hands in his lap and smiling at Blaine, like he would never even dream of misbehaving.

Blaine looked at him, “Of course not. You’re going to be a good little boy for Daddy and Papa. These are for just in case you forget.”

Kurt pouted at that, but Daddy and Papa were not budging. So, with a sigh, he stood up. When they got to the door of the apartment, Papa began giving him the instructions again.

“You stay between Daddy and I. You don’t make any noises. When we get to the car, you get inside right away. If we tell you to do anything, you do it immediately. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Kurt’s hands were sweaty, but he gripped the baseball bat he’d been given, and he nodded. He was ready.

Dave hadn’t wanted to say the next part; he and Blaine had fought about it. But, Blaine was right. With a huge sigh, he continued, “If something happens Kurt...if something happens to Daddy or I, you get in the car, and you drive. You just keep going until you reach Safe Haven.”

Kurt shook his head no. “I’m not going to leave you. We’re going together.” For the first time since the day with Celeste, Kurt looked scared.

“Yes you are,” Blaine sounded strange, and Kurt looked at him, hurt. “If something happens, then you get in the car. You lock the doors. Then you drive to Safe Haven.”

Kurt shook his head again, tearing up. “No.” He was right. He wasn’t going to argue. Daddy and Papa were just going to have to listen to him this time.

“Then we’re not going,” Blaine began putting down the blanket and the hairbrush. “We’ll stay here. I’m not taking you out there unless I know that you’re going to do what you need to do to be safe.”

“We have to go,” Kurt stomped his foot, then winced as Daddy swatted him.

“No,” Dave walked over to the couch. 

Kurt’s hands clenched, frustrated. “We have to,” he wailed. Safe Haven was everything that he needed, and he couldn’t stay here.

Blaine went to join Dave on the couch. “We have to keep you safe. That’s what we have to do. So, you can agree to it or not. That’s your choice.”

Glaring at them both, Kurt said, “Fine.”

“You need to promise me please,” Blaine hated himself. Kurt looked so angry and scared, but he knew it had to be done.

Crossing his toes inside his shoes, Kurt said, “I promise; if you get hurt, I’ll get in the car and drive.”  
“Alright then baby. Let’s go.” Blaine and Dave got up from the couch. Taking up their positions by the door again, they swiftly and near silently went to the car.

Kurt was in the car, seatbelt buckled, when the first person showed up. It was an old lady. Or at least, Kurt thought it was an old lady. Daddy and Papa were shutting their doors when she showed up, and quickly hit the automatic lock button. 

She stood at the front of the car, watching them through the windshield. Dave waited a minute not sure what to do, and then blew the horn.

“Papa?” Kurt was getting nervous. This didn’t seem like a good plan to him. They were supposed to be quiet. Dave should probably just hit that lady with the car.

As he was thinking that, another person joined the old woman. Dave lurched the car forward, smashing through both of them as he pulled out of the parking spot.

Kurt yelped a little, covering his eyes, and Daddy reached his hand back. “It’s okay,” he murmured, patting Kurt’s foot. “We’re fine. You’re okay?”

“Uh huh,” Kurt whispered, watching as Papa drove through the near empty streets of downtown Indianapolis. It was weird. They were normally full of people.

As they drove, they encountered more crowds of people with the mysterious illness. Papa avoided the people he could and hit the people he couldn’t. 

As they exited the city, Dave laughed. “It’s like Grand Theft Auto or something.” He sounded mildly hysterical, and nobody responded.

They travelled in silence. Every once in a while, they’d come across people, but they were fewer and farther between in farm country. A couple of times, they had to stop and backtrack, their path blocked by abandoned cars.

It wasn’t as fast as they would normally travel, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Blaine had forseen it taking weeks. By the end of the first day, they were almost halfway to Safe Haven. They’d stopped a few times to refuel from the extra gasoline they’d siphoned from the cars left at the apartment, but other than refueling and going to the bathroom, they’d driven.

Kurt had advocated travelling farther, but Daddy and Papa were afraid that their headlights would alert somebody, or that they would hit something they couldn’t see as well because of the dark. 

They ate dinner in the car, and then tried to make their rest as comfortable as possible. It wasn’t easy, and they were all ready to move along at first light. After a quick trip outside the car, they started up again.

The second day went even more smoothly than the first, and they reached Safe Haven well before nightfall. Unfortunately for them.

Safe Haven was abandoned. Kurt stared at the ghost town, trying to convince himself that he was just missing something. Then he started to cry. While Dave turned around, rubbing a hand on Kurt’s knee, Blaine lost it.

Getting out of the car, he kicked the tires hard. “Damn! FUCK!” he screamed. “WE DROVE ALL THIS WAY AND THERE’S NOTHING!”

“Blaine, calm down,” Dave was out of the car. “Kurt, stay right there,” he ordered, before shutting the door. “Knock it off and get back in,” he told Blaine.

“There’s nothing. Don’t you get that? Everybody’s gone. What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

Dave grabbed Blaine’s arm and gave him a shake. “Get in the car. It’s not going to do anyone any good if you get attacked. Come on.” 

When Blaine didn’t respond, Dave insisted, “Now. You don’t want to test me.”

“No,” Blaine glared at him, “There’s no point-” he was shocked into silence by a very hard swat to his ass. “What the hell are you doing?” he said, once he was able to speak again.

“Exactly what I’d do if Kurt was throwing a temper tantrum. Now get in the car,” Dave was furious. He didn’t have the energy to deal with this. “If you want to see if I’ll give you a spanking, we can do that.”

Blaine got in the car, not missing the wide eyed stare that Kurt was giving him. He hadn’t been spanked in close to 20 years, and he didn’t want Dave to break that streak. Glaring at the windshield, he sat in silence, waiting.

Dave put on the seatbelt and started driving. 

“Papa?” Kurt asked, his voice very small, “Papa? Where are we going?”

“An adventure,” Dave said. He didn’t know. He just figured they couldn’t stay there after Blaine made that much noise. So he drove.

And drove. And drove and drove and drove and drove. After a while, disappointed or not, Kurt couldn’t sit still anymore. 

“Papa?” he asked, squirming.

“What’s up?” Dave looked in the rearview mirror, smiling at Kurt. Everything was fine. They just had to drive. Eventually, they’d find someplace.

“I’m booooooorrrrrred.”

“I know pumpkin,” Dave was sympathetic. “I’m sorry. Why don’t you read one of your books?”

“Nu uh,” Kurt shook his head. “Want you to read to me.”

“Baby, I can’t do that. Maybe Daddy can read you a story?”

Blaine’s face wasn’t promising, but Kurt didn’t like that plan anyway. “No.”

“Take a nap?” Dave suggested, running through what he had packed to keep Kurt entertained.

“Nu uh. Papa, I’m not sleepy. I’m bored.”

“We’re not here to fucking entertain you Kurt!” Blaine exploded. “Just sit still and be quiet for Christ’s sweet sake!”

Dave looked at Blaine, incredulous, before he checked Kurt’s face in the rearview mirror. It had crumpled, and Kurt drew his knees to up, hiding his face. His shoulders shook as he tried to quiet his cries.

“Baby,” Dave said, one hand on the wheel and the other reaching back to pat at Kurt awkwardly. “It’s okay pumpkin. Daddy didn’t mean to yell; everything’s fine.”

Kurt continued crying, and Dave shot Blaine a dirty look. After several minutes of Kurt’s tears and Blaine’s stubborn silence, Papa began looking for someplace to pull over. They’d been driving for a while; they needed to stop for the night anyway. 

It took about ten minutes, but he finally found a small, deserted, playground. Stopping, he twisted in his seat. “Baby? Come here.”

Kurt shook his head, “Is okay Papa,” he said, his voice muffled against his knees. “I’m fine. Sorry I was being whiny.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s been a long day. Come up here. We need a break anyway.”

When Kurt didn’t listen, Dave got out of the car and climbed into the backseat. Pulling Kurt into his lap, he cuddled against him. “Daddy didn’t mean it. He’s upset too,” he murmured against Kurt’s neck.

“Sorry,” Kurt whispered. Looking up at Blaine, he told him, “Sorry Daddy. I didn’t mean to be dis’greeable.”

Blaine nodded, staring out the window, and they lapsed into silence. When it became apparent to Dave that Blaine wasn’t going to apologize, he began making preparations for their evening. 

“Do you want to play?” he asked Kurt. “It’s been a long day in the car. Let’s get out and stretch our legs.”

Kurt shook his head, “I can be quiet. I don’t need you to entertain me.”

“I need you to entertain me,” Papa told him. He was scanning outside, and he didn’t see anybody. It would be safe to play for a bit. If he brought their weapons, and he kept an eye out. Give Kurt a little bit of normalcy. 

“Daddy too?” Kurt asked.

“We’re going to give Daddy a little bit of time to himself. By the time we’re done, he’s going to be in a much better mood; I’ll bet he even reads you your bedtime story tonight,” Dave said pointedly, glaring at Blaine.

They didn’t get a response, and Dave and Kurt got out of the car and went to the swings. After a while, Kurt was more relaxed, and Dave decided they should eat. 

“What would you like for dinner?” he asked Kurt, as they walked back to the car, hand in hand.

“Do we have any ravioli?” Kurt asked. “Daddy likes it.”

“Ravioli it is then,” Papa told him. “Would you like pineapple? I think we still have some.”

“K,” Kurt broke away, running the last bit to the car and opening the door, “Daddy?”

Blaine wasn’t there.

Dave reassured Kurt. “He probably just went for a walk.” When Blaine didn’t return within ten minutes, they began calling, walking around the area.

Their search was to no avail. After looking for the better part of an hour, Dave forced Kurt back into the car.

“We need to move baby.” Dave was barely holding it together at this point, but he tried to force himself to focus on Kurt. If Blaine was gone, then he was gone. There was no reason to risk Kurt’s safety, or his own.

“No,” Kurt wailed. “No no no no no no no. We have to wait for Daddy. He’ll come back.”

That was what Dave was worried about. If Blaine came back, and he was infected, Dave didn’t know that he could kill him. He knew that Kurt couldn’t. 

“We need to,” he said, holding Kurt’s hand “I’m sorry.”

Kurt went into hysterics, trying to climb out of the car. “I’ll find Daddy. I can find him by myself. You leave if you’re scared,” he told Dave.

Kurt found himself held in Papa’s arms, unable to move, while Papa murmured in his ear. “I promised Daddy that I would take care of you. We promised each other.”

When that didn’t work, he capitulated. “We stay in the car,” he said. “You don’t get out of the car without me. Do you understand me? We’ll stay the night. If Daddy doesn’t come back by tomorrow morning, we’re leaving.”

Kurt tearfully agreed, and Dave ushered him through their evening routine. It took a while, and several chapters of their story, but Kurt finally fell into a fitful sleep.

After waking up and forcing himself back to sleep several times, Kurt woke up to a noise. Something was scratching, knocking, something against the car. Sitting up, he looked blearily outside.

He saw the familiar curls, and without thinking, unlocked the doors. Daddy wanted inside.

Papa woke as soon as the door opened, but it was too late. Blaine was upon him in an instant, tearing and biting, and he tried desperately to push him out of the car. 

It was fast. Kurt watched with horror stricken eyes, too shocked to move or say anything. It wasn’t until Dave stopped fighting, just lying there, that he snapped out of it. Kurt grabbed the nearest thing to hand and slammed it against Blaine’s head. The pillow didn’t do much, and Kurt launched himself forward.

Tackling Blaine, he knocked him outside the car and began pounding on him with his bare hands. Screeching hysterically, he continued beating Blaine until he felt familiar strong arms wrapped around him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Dave was saying in his ears.

Papa was wrong! It was not okay! Daddy had ripped out his throat and now they were both zombies and they were going to eat him! Shrieking and flailing, Kurt waited to feel teeth.

“Kurt! KURT!” Daddy was loud and scary, and Kurt continued shrieking, until something covered his mouth.

“WAKE UP!”

Kurt found himself pinned on the ground, Daddy and Papa both hovering over him. But rather than biting him, they kept shaking him.

It took him a minute, but he realized that they were not outside the car in the middle of nowhere. He was in bed. Daddy and Papa were definitely staring down at him, but the only injury Kurt could see was Daddy’s bloody nose.

Staring at him for a moment, Kurt turned away and flung himself at Dave. Hugging him tightly, he babbled. “And he was a zombie and he ate you and it was scary.”

Dave nodded, rocking a bit. “It was a dream,” he told Kurt. “A scary dream, but it was just a dream. Daddy’s fine. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. Just a bad dream.”

Sufficiently calmed, Kurt looked at Blaine, “And you yelled at me! You were awful!”

“No more zombie movies before bed,” Blaine told Dave. He had grabbed a tissue and was holding it to his nose.

“Not fair!” Kurt protested, “You were mean in the dream, and now you’re mean now! Is not fair, Daddy. Also, Walking Dead is not a movie. Is a television show.”

“No zombies period before bed,” Blaine said. “And I might have been mean to you in the dream, but you punched me in the face.”

“You were a zombie,” Kurt insisted. “I had to protect myself.”

Dave got up, reaching for Kurt and pulling him up onto his hip. “And were you supposed to protect yourself? Or were you supposed to run away? Because I’m guessing that Dream Daddy and Dream Papa probably didn’t intend for you to beat up zombies.”

“I was s’posed to run ‘way, but I was protecting you.” Kurt wrapped his arms around Dave’s neck, not letting go as Papa began making warm milk.

“That was very brave of you,” Dave said.

Blaine had followed them out. He disagreed. “Naughty. The word Papa is looking for is naughty. Maybe disobedient.” Kissing Kurt, he continued, “If the zombie apocalypse comes, you better listen.” He swatted Kurt’s bottom, teasing.

“No fair,” Kurt squealed, squirming. It hadn’t hurt, but it was the principle of the matter. “You can’t spank me for stuff Dream Kurt does.”

Dave smiled as he listened to his boyfriends argue about the relative fairness of being angry at each other because of dreams. Finishing the milk, he poured it into the bottle and toted Kurt back to the bedroom.

“Hush,” he said, settling down into the bed and slipping the bottle into Kurt’s mouth. “Both of you,” he added at Blaine, before Daddy could continue the argument.


End file.
